


Flowers On My Wrist and Love In My Heart

by Satan_the_One_and_Only



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Draco is a sappy boi, F/F, Fluff, Harry is also a sappy boi, Hermione and Pansy are the only ones who know what's up, Hogwarts Eighth Year, I wrote this to not be depressed and it kinda worked, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, Nightmares, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Oblivious Harry Potter, POV Alternating, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Self-Indulgent, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Supportive Draco Malfoy, Supportive Harry Potter, Tattoos, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Writing on Skin, and they do something about it, artist!draco, because our boys are too blind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 11:56:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20275528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satan_the_One_and_Only/pseuds/Satan_the_One_and_Only
Summary: When Harry wakes up one morning with beautiful drawings on his arm, he comes to realize that his soulmate is quite the artist.Even though he has no clue who his soulmate is and his soulmate seems to not want to meet him...





	Flowers On My Wrist and Love In My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!!!!! Amazing news, I have my own personal laptop!!!!!!  
I'm so excited!!!!!!!!  
Soooo! I've been working on chapter 16 of Soulmates and I've made some good progress. I don't know when I'll update because I'm back in school, but I have three free periods out of seven. The other four are easy classes with not much homework. They're not letting us take the computers home anymore which is why it's amazing I have my own personal computer now. I don't have to worry about that!
> 
> In other news, I will be moving out of my house in approximately two and a half months, on my 18th birthday. I'm looking for a job to afford my own place but I might have to couch surf for a while until I get on my feet. That means the internet may not be accessible to me for a while, but Google Docs doesn't need internet so I can still write without internet and post when I'm back online.

The first time the drawings appeared was at the start of eighth year. Harry’s left forearm was covered in delicate flowers and swirls of ivy. He examined them closely, trying to figure out where they had come from. It looked like they had been drawn on with a Muggle pen. “Oi, Ron! Did Dean decide to use my arm as a canvas while I was sleeping?” he called. Ron groggily stumbled over, nearly tripping over a pile of books on the floor that were clearly Hermione’s. She must have left them in the room from when they were studying last night.

“Wassit?” he muttered. Ron never had been a morning person.

“Why was Dean drawing on my arm while I slept?” Harry asked again. Dean had just walked into the room and he glared at Harry.

“I didn’t come anywhere near you last night!” he protested. “Maybe it was your soulmate, you wanker.” Seamus rolled his eyes at his boyfriend. 

“Calm down you bloody drama queen,” he said, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist. Harry turned back to Ron, ignoring the sappiness that was happening behind him.

“What the hell is all that supposed to mean?” he asked. 

Ron rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand before grabbing Harry’s arm to look at it. “Looks like your bond with your soulmate finally manifested.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” Harry snapped. He was too tired for all this cryptic nonsense.

“Oh, shit. I forgot you grew up with Muggles. Um…” Ron scratched behind his ear. “Hermione would be able to explain this better than me but basically a wizard’s magic connects with someone else’s. Have you ever heard of soulmates?”

Harry nodded. “Vaguely.”

“So your magic basically connects with your soulmate’s magic and causes a bond. Whatever they draw or write on their skin appears on yours.” Harry’s brow furrowed.

“But what if your soulmate is a Muggle or a Squib?”

“Then your magic will compensate and kinda connect to them. They still won’t have magic of their own, and they can’t use your magic, but it’ll let the drawings and stuff have a two-way connection. One of my aunts had a Squib soulmate, and I had a cousin a few generations back that had a Muggle one.” Harry nodded and Ron shuffled away to get ready to head down to breakfast. Harry suddenly looked at the markings on his arm in a new light, happiness blooming in his chest. 

Hermione suddenly walked in with her hands covering her eyes. “Is everyone decent?”

“Yeah, Mione. Everyone’s dressed.” She uncovered her eyes.

“Good. I just needed to come collect my books that I left last night.” Harry nodded.

“By the way, look at this Mione!” Harry said excitedly, showing her his arm.

“Oh, that’s pretty! Is that from your soulmate bond?” Harry nodded.

“I can put a preservation charm on that if you want so it doesn’t wash off,” she offered.

Harry nodded eagerly. “Please.” She pulled her wand out of where it was tucked into the bun holding her frizzy hair out of her eyes. She muttered a spell as she waved it over his arm and he felt her magic tingle over his skin. “Thanks.”

She nodded and picked up the pile of books from the floor, carefully avoiding some of the discarded clothes that were far too close to the books for comfort. “See you at breakfast,” she called over her shoulder as she walked out.

Harry cursed when he realized that it was far too cold to roll up his sleeves to keep the drawing uncovered. After he finished dressing, he grabbed a Muggle ballpoint pen from his trunk and stuffed it in the pocket of his robes as an afterthought before heading down to the Great Hall for breakfast. 

As he sat at the table in the Great Hall, he found that he felt awkward at the idea of writing a message to his soulmate in public before actually getting to know them first. He decided that he would wait until he was alone to write anything.

“Harry, you need to eat something,” Hermione reminded him. He nodded absent-mindedly and grabbed some toast to spread jam on it.

*

Draco rubbed his eyes tiredly and poured himself a cup of coffee, mixing in an ungodly amount of cream and sugar. He glanced up as Pansy sat down next to him, grumbling a greeting. She grabbed the coffee pot and poured a hefty amount into a cup, drinking it black. “You’re disgusting,” he muttered.

“Says the person drinking a cup of diabetes.” She pretended to gag before taking a sip of her coffee and sighing happily.

After sitting in silence for some time, Pansy seemed to remember something and nudged him with her elbow. “Can I borrow one of those Muggle pens of yours?” Draco nodded and dug through his bag to find one. He passed her a blue felt-tip pen, which she uncapped and scribbled a note on the back of her hand.  _ Finish potions essay _ . She capped the pen and passed it back to Draco, who threw it back in his bag.

*

Hermione gasped and looked at the back of her hand.  _ Finish potions essay. _ Harry grabbed her hand and looked at it. “Is that what I think it is?” she asked in a breathy whisper.

Harry nodded. “I think so.”

“Quick, give me a pen!” she urged, flapping her hand in the direction of Harry's bag. He instead grabbed the pen from his pocket and handed it to her. She uncapped it, thought for a moment, and wrote a message.

*

Pansy suddenly let out a small yelp and looked at the pale skin of her wrist.  _ So you didn't finish your essay? _ Draco grabbed her arm to take a look at the ink. “I guess your soulmate bond manifested,” he muttered, letting go of her arm. Pansy was still staring at her arm in shock.

“What do I do?” she whispered frantically. Draco shrugged.

“It’s too early to think. Just do what feels right,” he muttered before yawning again.

“Quick, give me that pen back!” she urged. 

Draco tossed the pen at her and muttered, “Keep it, I have plenty more.” 

She scribbled out another message.  _ No, I didn't have time with all the Charms homework. _

*

Hermione let out a small laugh, and Harry watched as she continued the conversation on her skin.

_ So are you in Eighth year?  _

The response came quickly.  _ Yes _ .

Harry suddenly felt like he was invading on something private and looked away self consciously.

*

Harry kept sneaking glances at his covered forearm in his classes that day, occasionally looking around to make sure no one was watching to tug up the sleeve and admire the swirling patterns. 

When it was finally his break period, he practically sprinted to the dorms, slamming the door behind him a little too hard in his excitement and jumping into his bed. He closed the curtains and fumbled to roll up his sleeve and take the cap off of his pen. He had to use his left hand to avoid the beautiful drawings on that arm.

He thought for half a second before writing,  _ Your drawings are beautiful. _

*

When Draco saw the little message on the skin of his right wrist, he froze. The handwriting was messy and oddly familiar, but he couldn’t place where he knew it from. He picked up one of the muggle felt-tip pens gifted to him by his therapist that he had been using to doodle, (“Draco, I want you to draw on your skin whenever you feel the urge to hurt yourself. Make something beautiful,”) and uncapped it.

_ Thank you. _

*

Harry jumped in surprise when he could feel the writing on his skin as it was drawn. He looked down at the two words in awe. 

He scrambled to pick up his pen again.

_ What’s your name? _

*

Draco’s heart started beating rapidly. He couldn’t tell whoever this was who  _ he _ was. It would ruin everything. He was a Death Eater, it was a well-known fact.

He picked up his pen and carefully wrote,  _ I’d rather get to know you before I tell you my name, and you get to know me. I don’t want you to judge me for who I am. _

He took a shaky breath and put his pen down, watching his wrist for a response. He was running out of room for more messages, so he headed to the bathroom to wipe off the writing.

*

Harry cursed. He wasn’t bothered about the message so much as bothered he was running out of space on his arm to write. The last thing he wanted to do was wipe off the pretty handwriting, and he couldn’t imagine wiping off the drawing on his left arm. He was so thankful for the preservation charm Hermione had placed on it.

Harry sadly walked to the bathroom and wiped off the beautiful script and dried off his arm quickly in case his soulmate started writing again.

He retrieved his pen and sat on his bed again.  _ That’s fine. I want to get to know you too.  _ He didn't want his identity revealed quite yet either if he was being honest.

*

Draco smiled sadly. His soulmate was going to hate him when they found out who he was, but at least he could pretend this whole thing wouldn’t end in disaster and a broken heart.

He knew inside it was a bad idea, a voice in his head that sounded awfully like Pansy’s telling him this was stupid and he should stop before he got hurt.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he picked up his pen.

_ Thank you _ .

*

Harry smiled, a feeling of joy bubbling in his chest. S _ o what’s your favorite thing to do when you're bored? Do you have any hobbies? _

*

Draco scoffed despite the goofy smile on his face. He could already tell his soulmate was a dork. 

_ As you can already tell, I like drawing. I also like reading. Muggle literature mostly, but my father didn’t really approve when he found out. It didn’t stop me though. _

*

Harry grinned. Hermione was going to like his soulmate. He put his pen to his skin again.

_ What else? _

He was struck with sudden sadness when a response appeared on his skin.  _ I’m a Seeker, that is when I used to play. The war kind of changed that. I have bad knees, and sometimes I have tremors, so I can’t fly like I used to. _

So his soulmate fought in the war.  _ I’m sorry, _ he wrote.

_ It’s okay, it’s not your fault. There’s only so many Cruciatus Curses your body can handle until there’s permanent damage. _

*

Draco cursed. Why did he tell them that? He was being ridiculous. This was a bad idea. He should stop now while he was ahead.

Draco picked up his pen again.

_ So what do you like to do for fun? _

Another message appeared.  _ Flying mostly. I’m not much of a reader. I also like riding the motorcycle my godfather left me in his will. _

_ * _

Harry had no clue why he brought up Sirius. This person was a complete stranger. They may have been soulmates, but that didn’t change the fact he had no clue who they were. They wouldn’t even tell him their name!

But a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Luna reminded him that this person was his soulmate. His other half. There was no reason he shouldn’t trust them, whoever they were.

_ I’m sorry for your loss. I know that everyone says that and it doesn’t take the pain away, but I honestly understand you on that. My mother recently passed away as well _ .

*

Tears welled in Draco’s eyes as he stared at the message. A tear fell on his arm, blotting the word ‘mother.’ A sob ripped its way out of his chest.

*

Harry watched as the writing on his wrist was smudged by a tear that wasn’t his own. The lump in his throat building, he picked up his pen, blinking his eyes to prevent the tears from falling and smudging the letters as his soulmate’s had.

_ My mother and father died when I was a baby. I grew up with my mother’s sister and her husband _ .

Harry wasn’t ready to talk about the extent of what happened to him at the Dursleys. He hadn’t even told Hermione and Ron.

*

_ I’m sorry _ , Draco wrote. He realized he was once again out of room on his arm and he spelled the ink away, not wanting to get up again.

_ What’s your favorite color? _ Draco asked. He knew he sounded stupid, but he didn’t want to talk about the dark stuff anymore.

*

Harry had just cleaned off all the ink with a spell right before the next question appeared. He thought about it. He could understand that his soulmate didn’t want to talk about death and the war anymore. He didn’t either.

_ Blue. _ He responded.  _ What’s yours? _

He didn’t want to mention that his favorite color used to be red, but after all the red staining the halls of Hogwarts during the battle, it made him sick.

The word  _ green _ appeared in the spidery writing he was slowly growing fond of. Was that weird, being fond of handwriting? Was it truly the handwriting he admired, or the person it belonged to?

*

The minute he wrote down the word  _ green, _ instead of the beautiful eyes that both angered him and made his knees feel like jelly, the bright light of the Killing Curse found its way into his mind’s eye. Draco racked his mind for another question that wouldn’t lead to a trip down memory lane.  _ What’s your favorite food? _

_ Treacle tart _ was the immediate response.  _ And yours _ ?

Did Draco have a favorite food? He thought about it, and finally settled on  _ chocolate mousse _ .

*

Harry couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. Chocolate mousse seemed like such a snobby thing to have as a favorite food. Suddenly, the door to the room opened and he jumped as Ron and Neville walked in, talking loudly. 

His curtains were closed, so they couldn’t see him, but he quickly scribbled one last message on his wrist.  _ My roommates just came in, I have to go. Can we talk later? _

_ * _

Draco stared at the message blankly. His soulmate’s handwriting was utterly atrocious, and the rushed manner in which the message was written made it worse, but he could understand what it said. His soulmate wanted to talk to him again. He wrote his response. 

*

_ Yes _ . the word on his wrist was clear as day. Harry almost cheered. The bubble of elation in his chest only seemed to grow. He wanted to let out a whoop of excitement, but decided against it, not wanting to seem like a madman. 

“Oi, Harry, are you asleep?” Harry quickly spelled the ink away, leaving the decoration on his left forearm, and opened his curtains.

“No, I was just laying down.”

“Alright. We were just going to drop off our bags and head down to dinner. Are you up for it?”

Harry nodded. “Sure. Let’s go.”

*

After dinner, Draco stayed up into the early hours of the morning talking to his soulmate. He idly drew flowers on the back of his hand in History of Magic, receiving a note from his soulmate that they were beautiful on the inside of his wrist. He surrounded the message by a delicate frame of ivy with leaves in the shape of hearts. He knew he was being ridiculous. This was going to end badly and he should have stopped a long time ago, but he allowed himself to live in the fantasy that his soulmate loved him back. That his soulmate wouldn’t care about the ugly thing on his left arm he covered in beautiful flowers.

*

Harry found it impossible to keep the goofy grin off of his face as he watched the ivy and heart-shaped flowers appear on his wrist. He was already slowly falling for whoever this person was. 

Hermione watched him, a smile of her own on her lips.  _ He deserves to be happy after all he’s been through, _ she thought.

She felt a tingling on her arm and she looked down to see a pretty heart with “P + H” inside. She hid a smile behind her hand and picked up her felt tip pen to write a quick  _ I love you, _ next to the heart.

*

Draco watched as Pansy idly drew a heart with her and her soulmate’s initials inside. Her eyes lit up as the words  _ I love you _ appeared next to the heart. He rolled his eyes.

“You two are like love-sick puppies, I swear to Merlin.”

Pansy glared at him. “As if you don’t smile like a fricking loon whenever yours compliments your doodles. Do you even know who it is yet?”

“No. They don’t know who I am either, and it’s staying that way.” It was Pansy’s turn to roll her eyes.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“To be honest, I thought that you wouldn’t approve of this in the first place.”

“I probably wouldn't have before I fell head over heels for this girl,” Pansy said matter-of-factly.

“Do  _ you _ know who she is?”

“I know everything about her besides her full name,” Pansy said carefully avoiding the question. “And I know that I love her.”

“Then don’t judge me for not knowing who they are.”

*

Harry glanced at Hermione, who was writing a message on her arm. “Did you find out who it is yet?” he asked quietly. She shook her head with a sad frown.

“Not yet, but I hope to soon. Right now we just go by our initials. Her’s are P.P.” Harry patted her shoulder sympathetically.

*

That night, Harry sat in bed, his curtains pulled closed, and listened to his roommates settling down for the night. 

It wasn't that he didn't want them to find out about his conversations so much as they were something private, something he wanted to keep to himself. 

_ Hi, _ he wrote on his wrist with the ballpoint pen he had been using earlier that day.

A response appeared quickly.  _ Hey _ .

_ What year are you in? _ Harry asked curiously. 

_ Eighth year _ .

_ Me too. I wonder if we have any classes together _ , Harry wrote.

*

Draco took a shuddering breath. That wasn't something he could answer. If he did, it would be easier for his soulmate to find out who he was.

_ I don't know _ , he answered carefully,  _ but if we tell each other our schedules, it might be harder to keep who we are a secret. _

_ * _

Harry nodded to himself at that logic. He respected that this person wanted to keep their identity a secret just as much as he did.

*

Draco spelled the ink on his left forearm away and retrieved his colored pens from his end table.

*

Harry couldn't help the panic that embedded itself in his chest.  _ Your drawing disappeared!!! _ he wrote frantically.

Draco’s brow furrowed.  _ Yeah, I erased it so I could draw something different. If I erase what I wrote, it disappears on your end too, _ he explained.  _ Same as if you erase something you write. _

*

Harry sighed in relief. He watched quietly as colored designs appeared on his arm. A small smile raised the corner of his mouth as he watched quietly.

He felt the overwhelming urge to find out who this person was. His chest was bubbling with so much joy he thought that he might explode with it.

He wanted to watch their hands holding their pen as they drew the delicate petals on their joined skin. For some reason, he pictured pale hands with aristocratic grace; artist's hands. He pictured grey eyes and sharp features, well-grown into since their youth.

Harry shook his head is such fantasies. There was no way he could  _ still _ be obsessing over that git (not that he would admit out loud that it was an obsession.) Hermione may have called it a crush but she was wrong. There was no way Harry likes Draco bloody Malfoy, and  _ certainly _ no way they were  _ soulmates _ .

*

Draco’s joy was bittersweet. He was beginning to grow fond of this person, whoever they were, but he knew he would never get to be with them, never get to be held in their arms.

He couldn't because when they found out who he was, they would hate him. 

And he couldn't bear the thought of that.

*

Harry laid down and turned onto his side so he could still watch the colorful flowers appear on his skin.

Before his eyes fluttered shut as he drifted off to sleep, he noticed that the flowers were lilies.

*

The next day was much warmer, and Harry opted for a short sleeve shirt underneath his robes.

He also carried his Muggle pen in his pocket. Quills were too sharp to use on skin. It made him wonder how other wizards wrote on their skin without hurting themselves if they were stuck with quills.

His soulmate used Muggle pens, that was clear enough. 

Harry dropped his backpack down as he sat down at the Gryffindor table.

Hermione was still in the common room studying and Ron wasn't awake yet, so he was alone. He rolled up the sleeve of his robe and pulled his pen out of his pocket, uncapping it with his teeth.

_ How to wizards write on their arms if we only use quills? _ he wrote.

*

Draco was startled when he felt the writing appear on his arm just as he was getting out of the shower. He quickly cast a drying charm before the ink washed off.

He dressed quickly, faster than he ever had before, and rushed back to his room to find a pen. He uncapped it and hurriedly rolled up his sleeve to expose his wrist.

_ There are special quills you can buy that have charms preventing them from injuring you when used on skin _ , he answered. He mused the fact that his soulmate must be at least half-blood if not Muggleborn. A smirk touched his lips as he imagined what his father would have said if he weren't currently the most insane occupant of Azkaban.

He was reminded of his mother taking him to the stationary store so she could buy one of those quills.

He remembered her drawing a delicate looking rose on her wrist and how it didn't appear on his father's wrist.

Arranged marriages rarely allowed you to be with your soulmate.

He had asked his mother why she had drawn the rose of she already knew father wasn't her soulmate, to which he responded, “My little dragon, I always hold the hope that perhaps my soulmate might change one day and that a rose will appear on your father's wrist.”

*

Harry saw Hermione and a very tired looking Ron walk in and he wrote a quick goodbye with a small lopsided heart at the end and rolled his sleeve over his arm. 

“You’re up early,” Hermione noted.

“Yeah, I wanted to have some quiet time,” Harry said lightly, not a complete lie. Hermione gave him a curious look, glanced at his wrist knowingly, and sat down with a small smile and a nod. Harry internally sighed, knowing Hermione had figured him out immediately, but was unbelievingly grateful she didn’t say anything about it. 

Ron collapsed on the bench and groggily reached for the coffee. Harry couldn’t keep the small smile from his face as he ate, occasionally stealing a glance to his covered forearm.

*

Draco sat on his bed staring at the small heart for what seemed like a small forever. It was severely lopsided but it made Draco’s real heart thump rapidly. He had only known this person for a few days! Sure, Pansy seemed completely trusting of whoever her soulmate was, but Draco couldn’t handle getting attached to this person only for them to break his heart. 

So like the complete berk that he was, he pocketed a pen and headed off to breakfast, completely aware that he’d continue this madness after he got a decent meal in him. He was already digging his grave, he had to get ready to lie in it. 

*

_ Do you like the weather today? I haven’t seen the sun in a good week. _ Draco scoffed. Was History of Magic so boring to his soulmate that they were reduced to talking about the weather?

Draco was sitting outside under a tree by the lake. He  _ was _ enjoying the newly found warmth of the air, but he was under dozens of careful sun blocking charms and he didn’t dare stray from the shade of his tree. A few other people were wandering the grounds, but they were so far off Draco could barely tell what their house colors were, so he had plenty of privacy.

_ I love the warmth, but I’m much fonder of the cloudier weather. I tend to get sunburned fairly easily, _ Draco responded. History of Magic was the only one of his soulmate’s classes he knew about, and purely so he could provide distraction and entertainment to stave off his soulmate’s boredom. Not that he was complaining, as his soulmate did the same for him in that class.

_ What are your pronouns? It just occurred to me I haven’t asked that. _ Draco rolled his eyes. His soulmate was a complete moron sometimes.

_ I’m male, so he/him. What about you? _

_ Same. _ Draco smiled ruefully. He had known he was gay for a long time, and this was only a smack to the face to his father claiming it was ‘unnatural.’ Not that anything his father had to say mattered in the long run anyhow, he had stopped giving a fuck about that when his mother died and his father didn’t even come to the funeral despite having been given permission to do so by the Wizengamot.

_ Is it just me or is Binns intentionally trying to make me fall asleep? _

_ It’s probably just you. _

_ Oh, I forgot to ask you. Have you noticed Flitwick getting shorter or am I hallucinating? _

_ Probably the latter, but I wouldn’t doubt it. _ Draco smirked.

_ He’s probably slowly compressing in on himself until he turns into a black hole and swallows the school. _ “What the actual fuck?” Draco muttered, rereading whatever the fuck his soulmate had written.

_ What kind of drugs are you on you plonker? _

_ The fun kind ;) _

_ You can’t see it but I’m rolling my eyes at you.  _

_ You know you love me. _ Draco couldn’t deny that… he sighed in exasperated fondness.

_ I must be going ‘round the bend, in that case.  _

*

Harry smiled. Everyone else in the classroom was in some stupor or drooling on their desks as Binns floated in front of the chalkboard, lecturing in a monotone voice. He knew by now that he was head over heels for his soulmate. 

He loved the easy banter that flowed between them. He loved falling asleep while watching the beautiful drawings take form on his wrist. He loved how easy his soulmate was to love. How witty he was. How he understood. 

_ Valentine’s Day is coming up. Do you have any special plans? _ Harry asked teasingly.

_ No, I’ll probably be hiding in my room from my friend. She’s sickeningly in love with her soulmate even though they haven’t even met. _ Well, Harry could relate to her, whoever she was.

_ I could always come hide with you, that is if you want to meet. _

*

Draco felt frozen as panic rose in his chest.

*

“Shit,” Harry whispered. Thankfully no one took notice. He fucked up.

_ That is if you want to! I swear I’m not trying to pressure you into anything! If you don’t want to meet we don’t have to I just was trying to lighten the mood! _ Harry scribbled out in a panic. He was already having problems writing with his left hand and his panic made it worse.

*

Draco tried to slow his breathing as he watched the message scribble out on his skin. He charmed away the ink that he had placed on his arm to give the poor guy some space and tried to make sense of the illegible writing on his arm. 

_ Calm down, you’re fine. I’m not mad. _

*

“Thank fuck,” Harry breathed quietly. Again, no one took notice of him talking.

_ I’m sorry. _

*

_ Why? There’s no need to be. _ Draco wrote. He looked up from his wrist and out across the waters of the lake. Would it be so bad to meet him? he thought. Yes, he decided. He wanted to live in his little fantasy a little longer before he had it cruelly ripped away.

His fantasy of his soulmate actually loving him and not hating him for his past or the ugly blemish on his arm. 

_ I just don’t want to pressure you in any way. If you’re ok sticking to communicating like this, then I am. I just like talking to you. I honestly don’t want you to treat me any differently if you know who I am either… _

What was that supposed to mean? Why would Draco even have the right to treat him differently  when if they met? What if he had been on the wrong side of the war too? Should he ask? No.  _ Definitely _ no. He couldn’t risk it, especially if he was wrong. He was stirred from his musings by more writing appearing on his wrist.

_ I think we should at least come up with some nickname so we have something to call each other. You can call me Prongs. _ Draco raised a questioning brow. That was the weirdest nickname he’d ever heard of.

_ Shouldn’t  _ I _ be the one coming up with your nickname? That is how nicknames work… _

_ Yeah, but you’d come up with something stupid or insulting. _ Draco smirked. 

_ You know me too well. Fine. Then my nickname will be... _

Draco thought for a moment.  _ Dragon. _ It seemed a bit too obvious, but he figured it would be okay.

_ Well Dragon, it’s nice meeting you. _

_ You’ve known me for almost two weeks, Prongs. _

_ Yeah, but I didn’t have anything to call you other than the handsome git who draws on my arm late into the night. _

_ You haven’t even met me, how do you know if I’m attractive? _

_ I don’t need to meet you to know you’re a plonker. Besides, it’s pretty easy for me to tell you’re probably fairly attractive based on how much time you spend on your hair alone.  _

_ I don’t understand how you can spend less than a minute on your own in the mornings! You must have a bloody bird’s nest on top of that head of yours. _

_ Hey! The birds work hard taking care of my hair for me! _

_ I rest my case. _

*

Harry smiled to himself as he packed his bag to leave History of Magic.

*

The next few weeks passed by in a blur and soon Harry found himself standing in front of a nervous Hermione in the Gryffindor Common Room. She was wearing a fancy dress that Luna and Ginny helped her pick out and her hair was beautifully coiffed, much like it had been at the Yule Ball in their fourth year. 

“Harry, are you sure I’m making the right decision here?”

Harry took her by the shoulders. “Mione, you love this girl, right?” She nodded. “And she tells you that she loves you?” She nodded again. “How does seeing what you look like change that? What’s that saying… Love is blind, right?” 

She took a deep breath. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right! I’m just repeating what you’ve told me about Dragon so far!” She breathed out shakily and Harry pulled his friend into a hug.

“Thank you, Harry.”

“Any time, now go get your girl!” She smiled and squeezed his hand before climbing out the portrait hole and in the direction of the place she and whoever her soulmate was had agreed to meet. 

He sat down on an empty chair in the common room and pulled a pen out of his pocket. He had invested in one of the quills for your skin like Dragon had told him about, but they were messy and broke easily. He much preferred using his Muggle ballpoint pen and Dragon had yet to use anything except for his felt tip pens that were clearly Muggle. 

_ My friend finally went off to meet her soulmate. It only took me a full ten minutes to calm her down enough to convince her that her soulmate wouldn’t hate her on the spot. _

_ I had to calm down my own friend as well. I swear you wouldn’t even be able to tell she bared her heart and soul to this girl for over a bloody month! _ Dragon replied almost instantly.

_ Girls are strange. _

_ Agreed. _

_ Your favorite flowers are Narcissus flowers, right? The ones that look like Daffodils? _

_ Narcissus flowers  _ are _ Daffodils, but yes. I swear to Merlin, Prongs, you better not send me anything! _

_ I’m not! I’m just wondering for after I’m able to start sending you things. Think of it as a note-to-self for next year’s Valentine’s day. _

*

Draco sighed.  _ Fine. But I better not see a single flower from you this year or else! _

_ Is that a threat, my little Dragon? _ Draco could practically taste the smugness rolling off that reply in waves.

_ Perhaps it is, deer. _

*

Harry grinned widely,  _ Was that a pun? _

_ Maybe…  _ Harry again had the feeling that his heart might explode with the joy filling it.  _ You’re sadly rubbing off on me. I forgot to ask, why Prongs? _

_ It’s my dad’s nickname when he was a kid. He had a stag animagus form, and my Patronus is a stag, so it seemed fitting.  _ Harry pulled up his other sleeve as he felt the latest drawing charmed away and watched in anticipation as a new drawing took form. Antlers and lilies.

_ Lilies are your favorite, right? _ Harry nodded before remembering that Dragon couldn’t see him. Sometimes it felt as though they were in the same room despite them never having met.

_ Yes. _

_ Happy Valentine’s Day, Prongs. _

“I think I love you,” Harry murmured out loud, not daring to write the words as tears poured in heavy streams down his cheeks.

*

Pansy nervously paced back and forth in the hall with the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, where she had agreed to meet H.G. Draco had helped her choose a dress to wear (a black dress that hung down to her mid-thigh with spaghetti straps holding it up) and helped her with her makeup. Her black hair was cut in the usual bob, the back so short that it was almost shaven, while the front hung longer to frame her jaw. She heard footsteps approaching and she stopped pacing and steeled her nerves. 

A person walked around the corner.

Hermione Granger.

  1. G.

A smile quirked the side of Pansy's mouth, all of the puzzle pieces falling into place. Hermione caught her eye, a look of puzzlement on her features. Hermione walked over.

Anxiety filled Pansy's stomach, her fear of rejection overcoming her. Hermione drew closer, a smile slowly tugging at the corners of her mouth as she put together the pieces of the puzzle she had been collecting through their conversations.

"Hello," Pansy greeted in an uncharacteristically awkward way.

"Hi," Hermione responded. There was a tense silence.

"Listen I—”

“I wanted to—”

They both spoke at the same time, then laughed at the blunder. “You go first,” said Hermione.

“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for the way I treated you all those years when we were growing up. In all honesty, there’s no excuse for my behavior and I hope you can forgive me,” Pansy said.

“I already forgave you a long time ago,” Hermione said with a laugh. “We were children. Children aren’t always kind. But I forgive you.” Pansy smiled brightly. 

“Thank you.”

“No, don’t thank me. I should have told you that a long time ago. What I wanted to say was: I still love you, even if we have a rocky past. I understand that it’s going to take a while to get used to but I want this. I want  _ us _ .” She took a step closer to Pansy so that they were almost nose to nose and took her hand. She lifted her free hand and tucked a piece of Pansy’s hair behind her ear. 

Later on, if you asked them, they would have been unsure who leaned in first for their first kiss.

*

Draco looked at the final product of his drawing for Prongs. It was late and he was exhausted, but he wanted to tell Prongs one last thing before bed, something he absolutely had to get off his chest. He looked at the clock and saw it was well past midnight. Prongs had to be asleep by now. Good. That meant that he could erase the message before Prongs saw it when he lost his nerve.

Draco found a spot above the antlers, on his wrist right below the palm of his hand, and wrote the words he so desperately needed to say.

_ I love you. _

*

Harry had just been dozing off when he felt something that felt distinctly like writing instead of drawing on his wrist just below his palm.

_ I love you. _ Harry smiled sleepily, elation buzzing in his chest. He grabbed the pen out from underneath his pillow and clumsily wrote on his right arm,  _ I love you too _ .

*

Draco couldn't stop sneaking glances at his right arm all day. He had put a protection charm on the words Prongs left for him and demanded that he not erase it until he gave him explicit permission.

Prongs had called him sappy but Draco couldn't bring himself to care. Pansy had snuck off that morning to talk to her soulmate, so he sat alone at breakfast. Occasionally, he found his eyes drifting to a specific black-haired git with vibrant green eyes, found his heart skipping a beat, and instantly scolded himself. Having feelings for Saint Scarhead was like cheating on Prongs. Just the thought of that made Draco’s stomach feel sour. 

During History of Magic, Draco doodled more on the back of his hand, smiling at Prongs’ little messages about the happenings of his day. 

_ Madam Pince just yelled at me for sneezing too loud in the library, _ he wrote at one point, and Draco had to hold in a snort.  _ It’s not my fault though, whenever I see cobwebs, I sneeze. I don’t know why, but it always happens. There was a cobweb in the corner and I was staring at it because I zoned out, and then I had to sneeze so I did. _ Draco hid a smile behind his hand, laughing silently. Pansy, who had rejoined him on his way to Charms, gave him an odd look. 

Pansy had spent the entirety of Charms talking about how pretty and smart and talented and amazing her soulmate was. Because it was a hands-on lesson in class, she didn’t get in trouble for her constant babbling. 

Apparently, her soulmate was Granger. Pansy had spent a solid five minutes describing their kiss and how her hair was so soft to the touch, et cetera. Draco threatened to hex her if she went into any more detail after she started getting into what she was feeling between her legs during the kiss. 

Pansy had made an arrangement with Granger to have lunch down by the lake, but the odd thing was that he was invited, along with Potter and Weasel. Pansy explained that she and Granger just wanted their friends to be civil with each other.

*

"Hermione, I'm glad you found your soulmate and all, but I don't see why you want  _ us _ involved," Ron complained. Harry wasn't paying attention to the conversation. He was sitting in the corner of the common room, tracing the latest drawing on the back of his hand with a light finger. 

Dragon had told him just half an hour ago that he had a lunch arrangement and couldn't talk for a while. Harry was disappointed, but it couldn't be helped. He was actually surprised at how attached to Dragon he had become and how much they talked every day.

"-rry are you listening to me?" Hermione demanded. Harry looked up.

"Oh, sorry. I guess I spaced out there for a moment."

"I said it's time for us to head down. We don't want to be late."

*

Draco refused to make eye contact with Potter, or even look in his general direction, really. He carried on polite conversation (Pansy may or may not have threatened his bollocks if he didn't behave) and he didn't even call Weasel out on his horrid table manners.

But there was no way in hell he would look at Potter. He couldn't. All of his emotions were getting scrambled up and he hated feeling this out of control. Draco knew that he loved Prongs, that he was sure about. But no matter how much he knew that to be a fact, he couldn't understand why he got butterflies in his stomach and his heart skipped a beat whenever Potter was in the general area.

He hated Potter for making him feel so out of control.

*

Harry was starting to get frustrated. Everything was going perfectly fine, the food was good, everyone was acting "civil" just like Hermione and Parkinson wanted, but Malfoy wouldn't even look in his general direction. Harry even asked him questions directly, but he would keep his eyes casually diverted and answer the question calmly.

Harry especially was angry at himself. Why did he want Malfoy to just look at him so badly? It didn't make any sense. It shouldn't bother him as much as it did.

*

Potter was absentmindedly running his thumb over his left wrist, as if he didn't even realize he was doing it. Draco wondered if he had gotten injured in some way…

*

Harry wished that Dragon hadn't erased the drawing on the back of their hands, but he said he was more of a private person about his drawings and didn't want to have one out in the open at his lunch arrangement. He ran his thumb over the spot where the words "I love you" were still written under his sleeve. Call him sentimental but he was considering getting the words tattooed there. 

He glanced over at Malfoy again and could have sworn he had caught Malfoy staring at him, but that was impossible.

*

Draco could have shouted with joy when lunch was over and he had to go to Arithmancy. He couldn't wait to talk to Prongs again. He didn't realize how much he relied on Prongs already.

He unpacked a pen immediately after he set his bag down and took his seat in class.  _ Hey, _ he wrote.

_ Hi. I missed you. Lunch was super fucking awkward. _

_ What happened?  _ Draco asked.

_ I had to play nice with a person who wouldn't even look me in the eyes. _

_ How rude. _

_ I know! I know we never got along in the past but I thought we'd be able to put that behind us! _

_ Damn. I'm sorry.  _

_It’s okay. It’s not like it’s your fault or anything. It was just frustrating._ _How was your lunch? _Draco smiled bitterly. He couldn’t tell Prongs about his problem with Potter, he felt too guilty about it. It was strange keeping a secret from Prongs after telling him everything for so long.

_ Mine was awkward as well. My friend wanted me to meet a few people who are going to be around her and her soulmate so we can “get to know each other better.” it was a load of crap, but I managed and didn’t say a single sarcastic thing the entire time.  _

*

Harry laughed. For Dragon, that was quite an accomplishment.  _ I’m proud of you. _

*

Draco snorted.  _ It truly was a feat, they had no table manners to be seen. I could have mistaken them for trolls. _ A thought passed through Draco’s head of how Potter could never look like a troll, he was far too handsome, and Draco again had to reprimand himself, guilt filling his chest.

*

Harry was now outright laughing. He again felt a pang of longing, wanting desperately to meet Dragon in person. But he would take it slow if that’s what Dragon wanted.  _ They sound dreadful. I can’t imagine how you managed.  _

*

Draco suddenly had an urgent need to meet Prongs, but he withheld the emotion, knowing it would only lead to losing him. Draco couldn’t risk that. He would rather die. 

*

That night, when Dragon drew his nightly picture on his left arm, Harry rolled up his left sleeve and wrote him a message.  _ I love you so much it scares me at times. When we don’t talk, I miss you and it feels like I’m missing my arm or something. It’s crazy because we haven’t even met in real life, but I guess that’s part of being soulmates. It’s hard to put this in words because I normally bottle up all of my emotions and ignore them, but this is something I don’t want to bottle up, I want to feel this. I love loving you.  _

*

Draco’s breath hitched as he watched the message appear. Tears welled in his eyes. Prongs managed to put exactly what Draco himself felt into words. It was shocking, seeing with his own eyes that his feelings for Prongs were mutual.

Unfortunately, that would end the minute Prongs realized who he was. The monster he was. 

*

Harry woke up with a shout. He was covered in sweat and his sheets were tangled around his legs. He panted deeply, trying to slow his breathing. The images of his nightmare were still flashing in his eyes; he needed to talk to Dragon. 

_ Are you awake still? _ he wrote. 

*

Draco looked at the latest message. He was, in fact, awake. Insomnia is a bitch. 

_ Yes. Are you okay? _

_ Yeah. Just a nightmare. I didn’t want to be alone.  _

_ You’re not. I’m here for you.  _

*

Harry sighed in relief.  _ Thank you. I love you.  _

_ Is there anything I can do? _

_ Just stay with me.  _

_ Always.  _

_ I love you.  _ Harry wiped at the tears running down his face and took a shuddering breath.

_ I love you too. Do you want to talk about it? _

_ It was about the war. _

_ Aren’t they all?  _ Harry huffed a breath of bitter laughter.

_ Yeah, unfortunately. I watched everyone I love die again. They kept begging me to help them. My parents. My godfather. My friends. You. I don’t know what you look like but I knew that you had died in my dream too. I thought I would die from it.  _ Harry wiped more fresh tears from his face.

_ I’m so sorry. Their deaths weren’t your fault, no matter what your subconscious tells you. I’m here, and I’m alive. You can see that right now. I’m fine. Take a deep breath and tell me how it feels. _ Harry furrowed his brow at the strange demand but he did.

_ It feels cool. The room gets a bit chilly at night. But also refreshing. _

_ See? You’re alive and perfectly healthy too. Unless you have some life-threatening illness you never told me about, but I doubt that. We tell each other everything.  _ A small smile touched Harry’s lips. Dragon always knew exactly what to say.

*

Draco swallowed a lump in his throat at the lie. He, in fact, was keeping a big secret. An important secret. Not to mention the secret on his left arm.

*

_ How are you so perfect? _ Harry wrote.  _ You always know exactly what to say.  _

_ It’s a gift. Is there anything else you need me to do? Do you need me to stay with you until you fall asleep? _

_ Yes, please. Thank you again. I love you. _

_ I love you too, you git.  _ Harry smiled again, wider this time. His soulmate was absolutely perfect for him. 

Harry felt the movement of a pen over his left arm, but this time on the upper part instead of on the inner part. He watched as the rough edges of tree bark and soft lines of grass came together as he fell asleep. Just before he drifted off, he saw that the picture was of a forest. 

*

Draco finished up the last bit of the forest on the upper part of his arm and switched his pen to his left hand to write on his right arm. He was so thankful for being ambidextrous.  _ Are you awake? _ He waited for a response for a minute or so. There was nothing. Prongs must have fallen asleep. Draco sighed, placing his pens back on his end table and laying down, promptly falling asleep. 

*

Harry cast the charm in the morning to protect and preserve the drawing of the forest. Hermione had taught it to him ages ago so he would stop coming to her every time Dragon drew something new, which was often. It was just warm enough to wear short sleeves but he remembered that Dragon was self-conscious about his drawings, even if they were on his arms, so he wore a light jacket over his shirt to cover his arms. 

It was Saturday and Hermione arranged to go to Hogsmeade with Parkinson (he had yet to be comfortable enough around her to call her by her first name) so he and Ron decided to have a game of one on one Quidditch down at the pitch. Harry got his broom and headed down to the pitch, knowing Ron had already headed down.

*

Draco needed to clear his head. All of his mixed emotions about Potter were driving him crazy, and he felt awful about lying to Prongs. He decided that a fly around the Quidditch pitch would be good for him. He grabbed his broom and set off to the pitch. 

*

Harry and Ron touched down on the ground, sweaty and exhausted from their one on one match. Harry was dying in his jacket. He looked around to see if anyone would see the drawings on his arm and saw no one, so he stripped off his jacket and wiped the sweat from the back of his neck. 

*

Draco watched as Potter and the Weasel touched down on the ground. Potter looked around, missing Draco’s spot near the entrance of the locker rooms, before taking off his jacket and wiping his neck. Draco froze when he saw Potter’s arms. Then his heart started beating rapidly, his breath speeding up as he lost control of it. 

A forest. A design of flowers and ivy. 

Draco turned tail and ran, unable to cope with this new information. He made it to his room before having a full-blown panic attack.

*

Harry hadn’t heard from Dragon since before breakfast when they said their usual morning greetings. After taking a shower, (he had made sure the charms over the drawings were well protected before even turning on the water) he went to the dorm and pulled out a pen. 

_ Hey. _

There was no response. Harry figured Dragon must be in a place he couldn’t respond.

*

Prongs was bloody Potter.

Potter was his soulmate.

He had told Potter every detail about his life, spare the fact that he worked for the fucking Dark Lord himself. 

Draco was now sitting on his bed, his legs pulled tight to his chest and his arms wrapped around his knees. He felt a message being written on his right arm but he ignored it. Just the thought of talking to Prongs like he used to made the intense feeling of panic build in his chest again. 

Pansy found him like that hours later, after he missed both lunch and dinner. 

*

Harry was getting worried. Dragon hadn’t responded to his messages all day. Harry had written three different messages throughout the day. He looked at the unanswered messages on his arm.

_ Hey. _

_ Are you busy right now? _

_ I’m getting a little worried… _

_ Please just let me know if you’re okay _ .

Harry tugged at his hair in frustration as he lay awake in bed that night. He was awaiting the new picture that would inevitably start to form on his arm. Dragon drew every night, there was no avoiding it. He said it was a coping method to avoid self-harm. 

There was no new drawing. 

Harry waited until four in the morning before giving up and falling into a restless sleep. 

*

Draco barely got any sleep that night. Every time he fell asleep, he was haunted by nightmares where Potter found out his identity and spat nasty words, damning him for lying, for stealing his chance at a soulmate he could love. 

He had no appetite and skipped breakfast altogether. 

*

Harry barely slept all night. He had nightmares of the war. Of Dragon dying. He didn’t write to Dragon to stay up with him again, though. Was it something he said? Did he do something wrong? Maybe Dragon realized he didn’t love Harry back and the soul connection broke. 

Harry went over all the possibilities in his mind, each one becoming more outlandish. He managed to nibble on some toast at breakfast before heading back to the dorms. 

*

That Sunday lasted an agonizingly long time, but was also not long enough. Draco knew he couldn’t face Potter. He wouldn’t be able to keep his head about him. The whole situation was a disaster. He couldn’t even bear to tell Pansy, opting to tell her he just had a bad flashback and had a panic attack from it. 

He knew that he was right, if Potter found out who he was, he would hate him. Any love that existed between them would evaporate. Draco ached with that knowledge.

*

Harry was exhausted and filled to the brim with anxiety when he went to classes the next day. He kept glancing down at his arm even though it was covered by his sleeve, hoping he would feel a message being written, a doodle being drawn. 

Nothing appeared all day. 

*

Draco avoided Potter all day. He took routes that were completely out of his way to avoid running into him, he ate meals in the kitchens as opposed to eating in the Great Hall, and he thanked Merlin that they didn’t share any classes. 

*

Harry fell into a deep depression. He barely ate, barely slept. He was moving through a thick fog, unable to connect with the world in any meaningful way. He hadn’t had a bout of depression that bad since Sirius died. 

*

The bleakness that filled every aspect of Draco’s life without Prongs grew every day. His nightmares had become unbearable and he opted to either stay awake all night or take a Dreamless Draught. Eating was hardly an option these days. All thoughts of food were meaningless. The idea of eating was mildly sickening.

*

Hermione and Pansy knew.

In fact, they figured it out when Hermione first told Pansy about the drawings on Harry’s arms. 

The only problem was getting the idiot boys to see it themselves.

Hermione couldn’t simply  _ tell _ Harry who his soulmate was, he would either act rashly or not believe her.

Draco was terrified of his soulmate hating him. 

The only thing they could do was try to manipulate things behind the scenes.

*

Harry stood in front of the Three Broomsticks. Hermione was expecting a package too big to be delivered by owls (most likely books,) and both she and Pansy were sick. She needed someone to meet the messenger and bring the package back. 

Harry walked inside to wait for the messenger. As he walked past one of the tables, he noticed the person in the booth was drawing in a sketchbook. The lilies. The daffodils. The antlers.

Harry drew a shaky breath and looked at the owner of the sketchbook. 

Draco Malfoy.

Draco. Dragon.

Harry’s eyes widened and began to water. 

“It’s you,” he said quietly. Draco was startled and looked up from his sketchbook, slamming it shut. He met Harry’s eyes and his own eyes widened in shock. He stood and walked briskly in the direction of the door “Wait!” Harry called, following him.

“Leave me alone, Potter.”

“Why weren’t you answering my messages?” Harry demanded. “I was worried about you!”

“Then don’t be. I’m perfectly fine, now leave me alone.” Draco’s tone was sharp and Harry flinched.

“What did I do wrong? Was it something I said? Did I upset you?”

Draco abruptly stopped and turned on his heel. “You did nothing wrong. I just don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Why? What happened?”

“BECAUSE I KNEW THE MINUTE YOU FOUND OUT WHO I WAS YOU’D HATE ME!” Draco shouted suddenly. He then seemed to shrink in on himself and wrapped his arms around his torso, staring at his shoes. “And I can’t live with the idea of you hating me,” he said quietly.

“Why would me knowing your name change how I feel about you? I love you, that can’t change!” Harry snapped. “I already know everything about you, and you know the same about me. How could you ever believe I would stop loving you?” Draco looked up from his feet, meeting Harry’s eyes. “I love you,” Harry repeated. “I  _ still _ love you.”

Tears welled in Draco’s eyes and a small sob escaped him. Harry immediately rushed forward and pulled him into a tight hug. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry in turn, sobbing openly into his chest. 

Harry stroked his hair and made soft shushing noises, swaying slightly from side to side. As Draco’s sobs and hiccups subsided, Harry loosened his hold on him. Draco looked up at Harry. He remembered lying in bed at night, imagining what his soulmate might look like and chastising himself for imagining this face. 

Harry lightly brushed the tears from his eyes with his thumbs, gently cradling his face. “I love you too,” Draco whispered. Harry smiled and huffed a small laugh. He kissed Draco’s forehead and hugged him again. 

“I have to wait for a package coming in for Hermione. She and her girlfriend are sick so I had to come get it for them.” The corner of Draco’s mouth ticked up slightly. 

“Funny, I’m here for the exact same reason…”

“I think we were set up,” Harry said, still drinking in Draco’s face.

“No doubt.” Draco brought his arms up to wrap around Harry’s shoulders. 

“We’ll have to thank them later, then.” Draco laughed and nodded.

“Definitely.”

*

Three Years Later:

Harry sighed as he shuffled through the essays on the coffee table, trying to make sense of the words. He was absolutely exhausted. He was the Defense teacher at Hogwarts and his students had dreadful handwriting, almost as bad as his own. He had been on his feet all day. The classes had moved on to actually practicing the spells they had learned he had to make sure there were no accidents. 

He absentmindedly rubbed his left wrist with his thumb, right over the tattoo he had gotten in the same place Draco first told him that he loved him. ‘ _ I love you’ _ in Draco’s handwriting. He felt a familiar touch on his arm and he rolled up his sleeve with a smile.

_ I’ll be home in five. Love you. _

Harry picked up the pen he was using to grade papers and wrote,  _ I love you too. See you in a few. _ Harry packed up the essays, opting to finish grading tomorrow. 

The Floo flared to life five minutes later and a posh man with silvery-blonde hair stepped out of the fireplace. His grey eyes immediately landed on Harry and he smiled.

“Welcome home, love.” Draco smiled and embraced his husband.

And all was well. 

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t know how to fit it into the story so I’ll tell you here in the author’s notes but Draco and Harry had gotten various tattoos after they graduated their eighth year. Draco got a tattoo of a bird’s nest with two birds in it, one a light grey and the other almost black on his shoulder blade. It was in reference to the joke he made about Harry’s hair. Harry got a dragon on his bicep for obvious reasons. He also got one of antlers and lilies on his lower back in honor of his father and mother. Draco got a tattoo of narcissus flowers on his ribcage, in honor of his mother, Narcissa. That’s also why those are his favorite flowers if that wasn’t clear enough. All of their tattoos are designed by Draco himself.


End file.
